


i'll be fine if i can breathe

by starkilling



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, I said it, Multi, it's a fix it, post-s8, us not getting ripped on basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 12:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkilling/pseuds/starkilling
Summary: Where they all get the happiness they deserve.





	i'll be fine if i can breathe

**Author's Note:**

> this is not what i wanted my first contribution to be
> 
> i wrote this with troye sivan's ease on repeat, which has become a huge comfort song for this finale. there's probably 600 of these already, but i don't care. that shit hurted. also i've been up for over 36 hours now, i didn't even try to proofread. i needed to vent.
> 
> sheith is still real btw
> 
> come cry with me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/kxiths) pls

With a wheeze, Keith sits up sharply from his bed. His hands brace the mattress, rib cage expanding and falling rapidly as he grounds himself. He starts to look around the room, pointing out certain things by their color, size, or type. Finally they fall on the ceiling, hands unclenching from blood-drawing fists. Keith isn’t really sure where he wants to begin when it finally comes to remembering where he is. When his eyes were closed just moments ago, he was a groomsman many years into the future supporting Shiro and someone from the Atlas he thinks is named Curt or Cole or _something_ , and it leaves a low pit in his stomach. It’s occurred to him now that this had been a dream, but it had felt so… so _real_. Too real.

As if it were forecasted to be the future.

As if… as if he had experienced visions from the Quantum Abyss again.

He throws his comforter over his legs, taking the fastest three strides he could to get out of his room and straight to Shiro’s - barefoot and all. Keith knows he has a tendency to get caught in his own thoughts and hold his true feelings in; this isn’t something he could ignore now. Not anymore. There were too many unanswered questions, too many conversations that had to be had, and if this is what his mind was choosing to show him then he didn’t need any more reasons to leave his bed.

In fact, he’s so caught in being worried about getting caught in his thoughts that he pays no attention as he rounds the corner that another person is walking equally as determined in the opposite direction. Naturally they collide, and Keith is the one who topples over and falls back. He blinks the confusion out of his cloudy mind for a second, then follows the feet in front of him up to the head that goes with them.

_“Shiro?” “Keith?”_

Oh god. Oh god not like this. He hadn’t even thought about what he wanted to say yet! He didn’t even know if he had anything to be worried about in the first place!

“What are you doing up? Where were you going so quickly?” Shiro asked, reaching down to take Keith’s hand. He nearly recoils from the touch as if he had been burnt. When was the last time that he and Shiro had been anything more than professional admiral and captain?

The pit sinks deeper, but he swallows to keep it down, “We need to talk. Now.”

Keith doesn’t give Shiro a chance to object, but more importantly doesn’t give _himself_ that chance either. He grips at the hand that had reached forward to help him get up, and pulls the leader of the Atlas towards an empty bridge. The moment they make it to where they’re going, Shiro reclaims control of his hand and stops Keith by his shoulder.

“Keith,” Shiro breathes, “what has gotten into yo—“ 

“Why do you hate me?”

It was Shiro’s turn to feel as if he had been zapped. His head tilts in complete and utter confusion, even shaking like he had misheard and could dispel the accusation from his ears. “Keith, I would never—“

“Tell me why we’ve barely spoken since the moment you took over the Atlas? Tell me why any of the very few conversations we’ve had feel too forced and too robotic for us?” He feels the word vomit starting and quickly spinning out of his control.

“Tell me why I hear myself get addressed as ‘Black Lion’ or ‘Black Paladin’ or even just ‘ _paladin_ ’ far more than I hear my own _name_ anymore—“

Shiro tries to reach forward but Keith’s emotions are boiling over like a pot of water left too full alone for too long, and his hand is immediately whacked away. It wasn’t being swatted away that made him be quiet though. He had only witnessed this once before, not even purposefully, but his eyes caught where the whites of Keith’s began to flood with just the slightest tint of yellow. How his canines were pointed between the syllables. That made him stop objecting, but seeing how those yellowish eyes became lined with tears made his mouth close altogether.

“And, worst of all, we haven’t even stopped for a moment to address how you got _that_ ,” Keith points at Shiro’s Altean arm then at the dark scar that lines his cheek, “and what I said right before I got _this_.”

For a moment, Shiro stands there. Paralyzed. His eyes are wide and on Keith’s, but he wasn’t looking at him. Not yet. Right now, he was looking _through_ him, and that wasn’t good enough. Before Keith succumb to the silence and go back on a tirade, a wave of realization washes over Shiro. In his distraction of trying to be a great admiral and allowing Keith to spread his own wings, he had ignored what he had treasured most. Their friendship. For a moment, his eyes close. He breathes out a huff of air he could have been holding for years if he would have let himself.

“Keith, I am _so_ sorry.”

“I… what?”

Shiro puts his head in hands. “You’re right. I completely shut you out. It was never my intention to, I promise you. I lost track. I tried to mask my fear of talking to you about what _needed_ to be discussed and covered it up by being busy. By pushing you away.”

He shook his head, reaching one hand forward to grasp Keith’s shoulder. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“Then why didn’t you approach me when you were healthy after what happened? We were able to talk on the astral plane… I thought that it was enough to tell you that we would be okay.”

Words were so difficult. “I knew deep down we would be. I know you’re thinking that it wasn’t my fault, but every time I looked at you and saw the mark I had left on you,” the hand on Keith’s shoulder moves up to cup his cheek, specifically where the scar laid, “I couldn’t think. I couldn’t comprehend the fact that I had a place in that. I still can’t forgive myself.”

At the touch Keith bristles, but ultimately finds comfort in the touch once he collects his thoughts. A hand of his own reaches up to meet Shiro’s. “I would never, _ever_ blame you. I’d lay my life down again in an instant if I had to. This scar is only skin deep. Plus…”

Here goes nothing.

“Plus you’ve left a lasting scar far deeper than this. Do you remember what I said right before that?”

Shiro pauses. Blinks. A beat passes, and Keith can see his eyes light up when his thoughts connect. “Oh. _Oh.”_

“Shiro, I love you. I have for a long time.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Can you say something other than that before I absorb into this floor?”  
  


“Oh! I—uh—sorry! I’m sorry. I’m bad at this. Keith, the truth is, I love you too. I’m _in_ love with you.”

Keith’s jaw drops just slightly, “ _Oh._ ”

“Not so easy to say anything else, is it?” Shiro chuckles awkwardly, and that earns him a punch in the shoulder. That light moment passes, gives way like a mudslide back into the serious atmosphere. “I’m being honest. You have become the most important person in my life. I would cross a million astral planes over and over again if I had to.”

They’re closer now, fully embraced, foreheads touching together as if it gave them the ability to search through each other’s souls.

“Even when I’m insufferable?” Keith laughs lightly, and it feels like ages since the last time he had been able to laugh.

“Keith,” Shiro mutters as their lips begin to ghost together, “I wouldn’t and I will _never_ give up on you.”

Kissing Shiro is everything Keith had imagined it to be. Warm, a hint of something like cinnamon, feeling like he was wrapped in enough safety to last him light years. There was no rush in it, just calculation and being held so close they could feel each other breathe through their chests.

It ends too soon it feels like, and Keith is left with pleasant static on his lips. A smile makes to dance across them, but it’s interrupted by a bright glow coming from outside. They can see it from the deck.

Shiro takes Keith’s hand this time and they make to get outside. Pidge, Hunk, and Lance aren’t too far behind. They skid to a halt, transfixed by the glow of their lions. At first it was concerning, but their connection sets something off in them to tell them that this is different from any other time. Just momentarily, Pidge’s eye catches the two hands grasped together.

She brings it to attention. “Not to distract, but are you two _holding hands_?” The rest of the group save the culprits look down, and each of them eventually adopt a shit-eating grin. All directed at Keith and Shiro. They both sigh, but never release their grip on each other. “It’s a really long story.” Keith is the first to speak up and it saves Shiro the trouble of feeling like he had to explain it.

Their eyes fall back on the lions and one by one, each powers down until all but the blue one is left. Lance takes two steps forward, just to get in front of the group, not noticing how the Altean markings on his face begin to glow. The blue lion lets out one of the mightiest roars any of them had ever heard, and it kneels. The mouth slips open.

All are blinded by the light, all but Lance. He keeps walking despite the discomfort of keeping his eyes open, despite feeling like he was being tricked by some cruel universe that wanted to rub salt in the wound. It didn’t, and Lance wasn’t being tricked. The light faded and out of it a silhouette emerged. Long hair. Curly and white.

Lance bolts towards the figure, screaming the owner’s name over and over, and they are all crying far before they realize it. No time for asking questions; no time for asking the how’s. Or why’s. Or how long’s. When they are finally able to settle with Allura at their side once again, they can only thank each other. Laughter met with tears of relief, and tears accompanied by stuffy noses and ugly sniffling. This is one of many realities they had saved, and one that they felt eternally grateful for.

There came a time where they finally felt exhausted enough to retire, and Keith couldn’t help but watch with a warm smile as Lance and Allura held each other close as they traveled to their respective quarters. He felt a surge of pride from it—that Lance had finally taken action and steps towards achieving something he had longed for since Voltron began again.

“Wait, where were you going when we crashed into each other earlier? Before all of this?” Keith suddenly asks, realizing Shiro had been walking with similar speed right up until they collided.

Shiro makes a gasping noise when he realizes he had his own reasons, forgetting he had been even going somewhere prior to Keith running into him. “I actually was coming to see you. I had this weird nightmare about marrying Curtis and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t real..” Keith cuts him off by grabbing his face in shock.

“No way! Me too!”

They laugh together. “Wow, really? Maybe reality wanted us to finally stop being idiots and be together.”

“Two things.” Keith starts with a playful smirk. “One, I’m not an idiot. Two,” he enunciates by pressing a chaste kiss to Shiro’s lips. “I have _always_ been with you, Shiro.”

“Takashi.” Shiro corrects, adoration glimmering like an endless constellation in his eyes.

“Takashi.” Keith echoes.


End file.
